


Honey and Rain

by CassTrash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abduction, Blood and Gore, F/M, Language, Minor Character Death, Suicide, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:10:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassTrash/pseuds/CassTrash
Summary: After angels break into your house while you were sleeping and force burning light down your throat, wings sprout from your back and you soon realise you are capable of doing great things. Not long after all of this, an angel comes down and orders you to find and protect a human named Steve.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of the very first series I have ever published. A lot of it is going to be different because back then I only had the base of the story, but its essentially going to end the same as I had planned (hopefully). This is my first time using AO3 so this is kind of a tester.

A long, long time ago something traumatic happened to you. Something that made you feel as though God didn’t exist, that he was just a lie made up by people as some kind of joke that became out of hand. You had thought you’d go for the rest of your life believing that God didn’t exist; until one interesting night.

More than one pair of muscular arms forcing your limbs down had awaken you, your eyes wide in fear as you stared into the glowing eyes of a man twice your size towering over you. Horrible, disturbing thoughts flashed through your mind as to what these four men were going to do to you but you never would have guessed correctly.

“It has worked.” you heard one of the men holding your legs down say. “It’ll only be a matter of minutes now.”

Finally coming to with your surroundings and the men in your bedroom, you began thrashing against their hold, desperate for them to let you go so you could call the police before they made a runner. But there wasn’t time.

Simultaneously, all four men had disappeared into thin air, the only sound in your bedroom being the faint echo of something similar to sheets flapping in the wind.  _Could this just be a dream? Surely they didn’t just vanish._ You didn’t even have time to ponder the situation as you felt a sharp pain in your back, almost like you had been shot.

You ignored the entire ‘people vanishing before your very eyes’ scenario and ran to your bathroom and flicked the lights on, pulling your shirt over your head and attempted to look at whatever was happening to your back. The angle was uncomfortable and made your eyes sore, leaving you no choice but to turn back around and stare at your face in horror as you tried to disregard the pains that only seemed to progress further every second. Within half a minute, you were kneeling on the tiled floor with tears in your eyes, refusing to allow the pained scream fleeing from your cracked lips.

An oddly soothing pastoral fragrance wafted through the air and filled your lungs, taking your mind off the pain for just a moment. The mixture was odd. Honey, pine needles, and rain? Being your paranoid self, you were always sure to close and lock all doors and windows which raised more questions than you’d like.  _How did those men get in? How did they get out? Where did this smell come from?_

Another sharp pain ran through your back, dragging out an uncontrollable whimper. You raised to your feet by pulling yourself up with the towel rack only to stumble backwards in freight at the sight of large black glistening wings sprouting behind you. The long six inch feathers suddenly wrapped around you, the amazingly soft plumes rubbing against your bare stomach. It spread warmth through your whole body like they were a heated blanket and then, in a fraction of a second, all of the pain had left.

 _It was just a dream, that’s all. There’s no possible way this could be real._ You closed your eyes and pinched the flesh on your arm, hoping that it’d be enough to wake you up, but it didn’t do a single thing.  _Of course it wouldn’t be that easy to wake up._ Deciding to head back to bed in hopes that you would wake up without these wings on your back, you tried to ignore the tickle of plumes rubbing down your legs and roaming your body like a pair of hands.

But when you had awoken the next morning, you came to a shocking realisation that it wasn’t a dream and that you now had wings sprouting from your flesh, however that may be possible. 

It took you months to adjust to the changes. It seemed that you were the only one who could see the wings, which only made things that much worse for you. Whenever you mentioned them accidentally, somebody stared at you as though you were insane and at this point you didn’t blame them. The wings proved to be a nuisance at the most awkward of times, especially since you couldn’t control them. It was like they had a mind of their own. If they weren’t wrapped around your body like a protective shield, they were spread far out to get the wind between its sparkling raven feathers with the blotched blue ends, but they couldn’t help from knocking objects to the floor when passing a desk or denying you entry to a tight doorway. 

Six months had passed since those strange men broke into your house and shoved light down your throat. Six months since these wings had sprouted from your back. Six months and you had only just figured out that you were capable of doing things far greater than what anybody could imagine. 

You were stuck at an agonisingly horrific party – which one of your friends had dragged you to in hopes that you would loosen up and find a date – when you had found out that you could fly. You weren’t sure how you had even done it, considering these wings didn’t seem to want to listen to your commands, but within a blink of an eye you were soaring through the sky like a bird, the wind vigorously flapping against your face and flowing through the feathers behind you. When you reopened your eyes, you were lying on your bed with untidy hair and ruffled clothes.

Ever since that day, you had searched for all the different things that you might be able to do, but only came up with a few. You didn’t know what you were, or how you were doing these things, but some of them were more useful than you’d like to admit.

Then you had met Ansiel, an angel who had taught you how to fight and use your abilities. He had come to you needing your help protecting a human who was somebody special; some kind of prophet. 

You had horribly failed that mission.

Evan was the first person you were ordered to protect, which only made the angels more pissed when you had come to them giving them the news that he had committed suicide while you weren’t supervising him. The smell of expired Chinese food and his father’s bottles of whiskey will forever be in your mind, along with the image of the fourteen year old boy hanging from the ceiling with tear stained cheeks. You hadn’t been concentrating enough and now he was dead because of it.

After that, you refused to do the angel’s bidding. You trained yourself how to fight using your newfound abilities – just in case they chose to come after you – and stayed far away from them as possible, that was until a fury ignited within you. Something clicked and you suddenly went on a rampage. Any angel in your path was given no mercy. Within only a couple of short days, you had killed at least half a decade’s worth of angels. You often heard them on the angel radio inside of your head talking about how you must’ve been one of the fastest learning angels they’ve ever seen before, which only built your confidence. They were afraid of you, which meant you had the advantage.

“Y/n,” you heard one day, almost frightening you to death. You hadn’t expected to hear the shrilling voice of Ansiel through your head, “I know you’re listening. I have another mission for you, if you’re finished with your little games.”

Taking a leap of faith, you answered, “I thought you’d know better than to assign me with somebody’s life again.”

You could almost hear the shit eating grin on his face from hearing you reply. “I’m asking nicely. If you decline, I suppose I’ll have to threaten the life of your sister, won’t I?” he said with a hint of smugness. 

 _If only he was here,_ you thought,  _I’d wipe that smile off his damned face._ “Hurt them and you’ll live to regret it.” you growled. You might not have ever met your sister before, or even know if she’s a decent human, but you weren’t going to let an angel blatantly murder her when she hadn’t done anything.

“I already have them located. All it would take is one quick blade to the heart.”

The anger was rising up inside of you. “Fine!” you shouted aloud, not meaning to. “Who is it and where are they?”  _If you were able to protect this guy for long enough, you might be able to get a chance to pounce on Ansiel before he reached your sister._

“Steve.” Ansiel answered rather happily. “Sunshine Road motel. Better hurry.”

With one quick flap of your wings, you were standing in the very unpleasant lobby of the motel. It was old, probably a couple decades. The yellowed wallpaper was beginning to peel and crack, the roof was covered with mould, and the carpet looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years. 

A newspaper on the ground showed today’s date, along with large bold letters exclaiming  _Two dead, hearts missing._ Was it a coincidence that the guy you need to protect is in a town where werewolves were currently hunting? Knowing there was no way of guessing, you shrugged it off and immediately tried to find Steve but couldn’t locate him for the life of you.

Sighing, you walked over to the front desk, reading the name tag on the woman who looked disinterested in her job.  _Violet._ “Has somebody named Steve checked in here recently?” you asked, eyeing the camera in the corner of the room.

“I can’t give that information out.” she groaned, waving her hands in the air exaggeratedly. 

Without hesitating, you reached over the desk and pressed two fingers to her forehead, listening to the thump of her body dropping to the floor before searching through the security footage and finding three people who had entered the motel last night. Two of the people were a couple, who mustn’t have been able to afford a better place to sleep than this. The third person was a little more interesting. He was a slightly scruffy looking man, who wore a dark blue hoodie which he seemed to be clutching on to quite tightly. Zooming in on the screen and looking closely at the blurry pixels, you could see the faintest of blood. His knuckles seemed to be just as bloody. You weren’t sure if he was the attacker or the victim.

Following the man through the cameras, you found his room and quickly wiped the footage of you knocking Violet out. Retracing his steps, you stumbled across his room, number 17, and awkwardly knocked, unsure how you were going to introduce yourself so casually. When he didn’t answer for the third time, you flew yourself into the room and observed it carefully. 

The bed sheets were messily made, hanging off on the side towards the open window. A chilly breeze flew into the room, causing the thin fabric hanging above the window to sway back and forth before finally resting once again. Stepping in front of the open window, you placed your hand on the sill, leaning out and taking a look around. He was nowhere to be found. As your hand retreated back to your side, you felt something different. Exposing your palm upwards, you saw blood smeared across your palm to your fingertips.

The noticeable white paint underneath the blood told you it was beginning to dry and crack, but it was clear that the outline was of a hand print. You just wondered if it was Steve’s or somebody else that you would most likely come across. You knew two things. Steve wasn’t here anymore and there was only one person that you could go to for help and she isn’t very giving when it comes to you, but it was the only option you had left.

Your wings spread out on their own, obviously having the same idea as you, and flapped once, heading into the direction of the vile house that belonged to the witch you once tried to kill.


	2. Chapter 2

The onyx feathers ruffled themselves up and finally settled back into place, fixing the previously misplaced feathers from the strong winded flight here. The wings folded in and pressed against your back tightly to keep from getting in the way as you carefully looked around the wide hallway you had landed in. You had only been here once yet it all looked so different. Candles mounted on the sides of the walls were lit, the flames raised high towards the ceiling, and melted wax dripped to the floor that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in weeks.

The far end door flung open and pale white smoke billowed out of the room and fled down the hallway around your shoes. “I know you’re there,” her voice sounded from the room, thick with confidence, “no point in hiding.”

She was powerful, but she was even more powerful in her own house. If you didn’t have something she needed, you would be at her mercy. Remembering that you had your angel blade with you, too, you felt slightly better about coming here in the first place. “I wasn’t hiding.” you grumbled as you walked into the room, eyeing the back of Circe’s head as she raised her hands in the air to precisely place an animal skull on a pile of other ingredients. 

Circe wasn’t the world’s most famous witch, but she was very well known in Georgia, which you hadn’t known about until you had tried to kill her only to miserably fail and almost die yourself. You hadn’t stumbled across her ever since, you were quite surprised she hadn’t tried to kill you again. “Of course you were.” she said, staring at you through her amber eyes. “What is it you need, Y/n? I am really not in the mood to beat you to a pulp once again.”

“I need your assistance.” You hated even admitting it to her, knowing that she was getting a thrill off hearing the words falling from your lips. Her head raised in interest but didn’t comment. “There’s somebody I need to find but I can’t locate them.”

A seven foot long Burmese python slithered out of nowhere and wrapped around Circe’s body, its stone-like eyes staring at you with disapproval. “You must have quite the confidence if you believe I’ll help you after you tried to kill me.” she hissed just like the python that was now resting on her shoulder. 

It was a risk even being here, but offering something that she couldn’t refuse was going to be one of the most dangerous things you would ever do. “I distinctly remember you telling me that you need an angel feather for a spell of yours.” you said reluctantly, feeling the wings connected to your back suddenly dig into your skin as though they were telling you to stop. 

“You’re willing to give me a feather just to find some human?” she said, barely able to contain her excitement.

“If you succeed.”

Circe’s lips curved into one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen come across her bronze face. “Okay then.” she said. “What’s this human’s name?”

“Steve.” you responded, trying to remember if Ansiel had given you a last name but you knew he hadn’t. 

Her smile fell into an irritated frown. “Do you have something of his? Otherwise we’re going to be here forever trying to find the correct Steve out of all of Georgia.” 

The blood. Was it even Steve’s blood? You certainly hoped so. “Give me a minute.” you mumbled, almost incoherently, and flew to a rundown gas station a good hour away from the motel and taking a packet of cotton bud’s before returning to the motel room. Fortunately you had made it just in time, as the bloody hand print had almost completely dried up. Using one of the cotton buds, you swiped it across the blood and flew back to Circe’s creaking house, handing it over to her and watched as she began tracking the blood back to where it came from.

It took a while and Circe didn’t really say anything, except for when she mumbled a word underneath her breath that you didn’t understand to begin with, but she had finally located somebody that the blood had presumably come from. “Blake’s Pub. Two blocks from the motel.” she said, opening her eyes and staring at you. “You really couldn’t be bothered checking around before coming here? Didn’t seem that hard of a place to look.”

Grumbling underneath your breath, you prepared yourself to fly to the pub and finally meet this human who needs protecting, but Circe stopped you before you could. “I’m going to be needing that feather now.” she growled, ready to throw a spell at you if needed. 

You weren’t ready to back down from a deal with her. You’d probably die before you could even think about it. Reaching for the feathers at the flesh of your back, you winced as you plucked one of them, the other feathers puffing up in anger at your actions. You handed the smaller feather over to Circe reluctantly, watching her amber eyes glow with admiration at the black and blue feather now in the palm of her hand. She quickly lost interest in you, giving you plenty of time to fly to the pub without even giving thanks.

The powerful stench of disinfectant overlapped the horrific combination of cigarette smoke and alcohol spilling onto the counter, the wooden surface becoming sticker each drink poured. There wasn’t a lot of people here, but enough that you couldn’t hear the background music underneath all of the chatter and laughter. 

You pushed your way through the large groups of men and women until you had reached to the middle of the pub, carefully scanning everybody that you could see in case you missed Steve somehow, but he was nowhere to be found.

Just as you were about to blame Circe for leading you to the wrong place, you caught sight of two men – who were poorly hiding a knife – heading up a flight of stairs. Your interest peaked and you chose to follow them up the stairs, being sure to keep your distance so they didn’t notice you. Another man sat in a chair, his wrists tied behind him and bloodstains clearly evident on his clothes. His head was hung low telling you he was unconscious, but you were still able to make out his facial features.  _Steve._

One of the men wandered off to the side of the room where a variety of torture weapons laid out on a plastic sheet covering the table, while the other man stood in front of Steve, the knife loosely held in his hand. “Do you think there’s others?” the one at the table said, his eyes scanning the weapons trying to decide which one to use on Steve.

“Not with him.” the other one responded. “He looked pretty alone in that motel room.”

 _Steve must be a hunter,_ you presumed. These guys must’ve got a few hits on him before they captured him and brought him here. You slowly pulled your angel blade – which you had stolen from another angel – out of your inner jacket pocket and carefully ascended up the last couple of stairs so you were finally level with the two men. “Hey!” you yelled, just in time to stop the men from injecting something into Steve’s neck. 

They swiftly turned around and stared at you with irritation, flashing their demonic black eyes at you once before charging at you. You dodged to the side at the last moment and stabbed one of the demons in the back, causing his body to twitch a few times as it flashed a bright orange and fell to heap on the ground. The remaining demon had tried to tackle you, but, with the help from your wings, you had just barely managed to move out of the way in time and stab him in the in back just like you had to the other demon

If it wasn’t for all of the talking downstairs, you were sure somebody would’ve came upstairs to check out what all the noise was. Using one of the demons shirts, you cleaned the blood from your angel blade and ambled over to Steve, glad that he hadn’t woken up during all of that; you weren’t sure how he would react.

It was obvious that he had been tortured; and badly, too. An irregular slice down his arm looked like it had been created from a serrated knife, fresh blood continuing to pour out of the wound. A couple of burns were evident on his cheeks and neck, along with a few bruises littered across his face.  _What could he possibly know that was so important for them to torture him?_

Something deep inside you told you that telling him you were some kind of angel here to save him wasn’t such a good idea, but you needed to keep him in your sights. This was going to be harder than you had expected.

If you were to heal him of his injuries, he would only become suspicious of you, and you couldn’t take him to a hospital otherwise the police would get involved in all of this. 

You cut off the restraining ropes that held his wrists and ankles firmly in place and pressed your hand to his shoulder before flying back to his motel room.

Four hours had went by before Steve showed any sign of consciousness, giving you plenty of time to properly clean up his injuries with supplies you had found in his duffel bag and come up with some sort of excuse on how you had stumbled across him. 

A sharp pang ran through your stomach to your chest when he opened his eyes, which you were definitely not prepared for. You had never felt anything like that before and it confused you as to why it happened in the first place. You tried to ignore it so you could focus on how he was feeling, but the sparkling blue that had been hiding behind his eyelids had caught your attention first.

Neither of you said a word for what felt like minutes but was only seconds, as Steve pushed himself onto his elbows to – what you thought – defend himself, but just stared at you instead. There was something hidden in his eyes, something that made the hairs at the nape of your neck stand tall. Something that made a faint and blackened memory glow; just for a second.

“You should, um, lay down.” you said, trying to keep yourself occupied to not think about whatever was happening inside of your mind. “You need to rest.”

Steve didn’t dare take his eyes off you, but he listened and laid back on the bed. “Who are you?” he asked, though it seemed like he really didn’t want to know. 

“My name is Y/n.” you paused and swallowed thickly. “I’m a hunter just like you are. I was hunting demons and happened to stumble across you. I found your motel card in your pocket, brought you here and cleaned up those wounds a little.”

His eyes finally peeled away from your face to fall to the side of the room, looking distraught. “Thank you, Y/n,” he said softly, “but you should leave.”

Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. “There could be more demons. I’m not leaving, especially not when you’re this injured.”

“I can defend myself.” he almost growled.

“Oh yeah? Stand up.”

The hunter’s eyebrows furrowed slightly in question as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand up, but wasn’t able to keep himself standing for longer than three seconds. You bent on the floor beside him and cocked your head to the side, “Looks like we’re going to be hunting buddies for a little while.” you said and helped him return back to bed.

You could tell he wanted to protest, but he wasn’t in the condition to do be able to do anything to get you to leave. Steve sighed and stared at the ceiling above him, thinking about something but you just weren’t sure what.

You seated yourself at one of the fragile wooden chairs surrounded by an older looking table, your eyes not moving from a speck of lint on the table as you tried to think what Ansiel would possibly want with Steve and what he wants you to do with him. How long were you supposed to be protecting him for, and who are you protecting him from in the first place?

There’s just too many unanswered questions.


	3. Chapter 3

Saying you hated being stuck in a motel room for three days straight was an understatement. Ansiel must’ve had something big planned for Steve, right? Why else would you need to protect him and why do demons desperately want him so badly? Steve barely spoke to you for the past three days, but you knew there was something on his mind that he wanted to talk about. “Are you going to ignore me forever?” you asked, staring at the ceiling above you.

Steve limped past you, eyeing you as he did so, and entered the bathroom to have a shower. A sigh left your lips as you heard the click of the lock on the door. You hated snooping around, but if you were going to be spending any more time with Steve you wanted to know what he was so secretive about. Once you heard the shower start up, you retreated to his duffel bag thrown on the edge of his bed and began searching for something you might’ve missed earlier, though your wings thought it was a bad idea judging by the way the feathers began digging into your skin.

He didn’t have much. A couple of pairs of shirts and pants, knives, salt and a few flasks full of holy water. You didn’t know many hunters who managed to get around with just this, then again you didn’t know many hunters. The black and blue feathers jabbed you in the forearms once again, telling you they were right and you were wrong. “Yeah, yeah.” you grumbled, backing away from the bag just in time as Steve surfaced from the steamy room, wearing nothing except a towel around his waist.

If you were still a human, you’d be about ten shades of red right about now. It didn’t even look like Steve tried to dry himself off a little bit before deciding to come out. His hair was still so wet that droplets of water fell to his chest, where they trickled down his body to the towel held loosely on his hips. All the wounds you had stitched up seemed to be holding nicely. Your eyes narrowed in on the tattoo on his abdomen. It was Enochian, you had seen the symbols before, but you still hadn’t learnt how to read it. “Enochian, right?” you murmured, glancing at the tattoo. Steve simply nodded and shuffled through his duffel to find some clothes to wear. “What’s it say?”

“Shouldn’t you know?” he replied, slipping on his shirt without drying himself off first. 

You squinted at him in confusion. “What?”

“You said you’re a hunter and you recognised the language. Surely you’d know how to read it.” 

“I’ve seen it before, doesn’t mean I took a class to read it.”

He eyed you for a moment before letting out a low rumble, “It’s a warding tattoo. It protects me from being found by angels.”

That explains why you couldn’t locate him earlier, but why would he need to protect himself. “What do the angels want with you?” you asked, but Steve didn’t seem like he was in the mood to answer you as he turned on his heels and re-entered the bathroom to get dressed.

Steve exited the bathroom clothed this time and his hair looked like it had finally been towel dried. The hunter threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and walked towards the motel door. “Coming?” he asked, twisting his head to look back at you with a small smile.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, following him out the door and to the motel parking lot where a ‘78 Lincoln Continental Mark V rested in the sun, the diamond jubilee paint sparkling in the light. 

It took a bit of effort to open and close the doors and the leathers seats squeaked a little too much, but it was a gorgeous and comfortable sized vehicle. The colour wasn’t one you’d choose, but for some reason it felt like it fit with Steve. “Demons know I was staying there and they probably know you were, too. We should skip a few towns and settle on a motel where they won’t find us.” The car heavily rumbled to life, the sound about as deep as Steve’s voice.

“Should you really be operating this when you’re injured? I mean, you can barely walk straight.” But to your surprise, Steve could manage just fine. He didn’t drive as reckless as a teenage jock, but definitely liked to show off that he was more than capable of driving while covered with wounds.

Hours passed and neither of you said a word, that is, until you noticed how tired Steve looked. “Hey,” You placed a hand on his shoulder, which tensed at your touch, “maybe you should rest. I’ll drive.”

He glanced at your hand, which you retracted. “Yeah, alright.” 

The car steered off to the side of the road, stopping just a few feet in front of an old building nobody had touched for years. “Wait, really?” You didn’t think Steve would actually let you. Not because he was overly protective of his car or anything, but he still didn’t seem like he trusted you. It didn’t seem right. Nonetheless, you swapped seats so he could get some rest. “Okay, then.” 

It didn’t take long for Steve to practically pass out against the window, his arms loosely wrapped around himself and his chin barely touching his chest. He looked peaceful, much more peaceful than what you’ve currently seen him. Something was just completely off about him and you were anxious to find out what it may be. Earlier, back in the motel when he first woke up, you could feel something running from your stomach to your chest when he opened his eyes. You still don’t know what it was.

You shook your head as though it was to clear your mind and stared at the moon and car headlights reflecting off the rain slick roads, wondering what you’re even supposed to be doing from now. Ansiel said to protect Steve, but from what? Demons? Why would demons even want Steve? Why were you the one that needed to protect him? And did Ansiel even keep his promise about your sister? 

The illuminated neon lights lining a gas station window brought you back to reality. You were beginning to run out of fuel, how convenient. A silver Toyota Sedan drove past as you pulled into the station, their headlights almost blinding you. “Bastard.” you growled as the wheel of Steve’s car just barely scraped against the curb. It’s too dark to inspect the damage.

Pulling up to the nearest pump, you jumped out of the car and filled up the tank as much as you could before entering the building to buy some snacks for Steve. There wasn’t any food in his duffel and his car looked pretty spotless. You roamed the isles a couple of times before grabbing a few different bags of chips, water and beef jerky. It wasn’t a lot but it’d last a few days. “Whats an angel doing buying food and fuel?” A husky voice - and not the good kind - said from behind you, their strong hand wrapping around your wrist and yanking you away from the isle. He flashed his black eyes at you his smile widened. He wore the gas station’s vest, so you knew he ‘worked’ here. The food in your arms fell to the ground, and in your effort to escape, so did some of the food from the shelves.

Twisting your head backwards, you peered out of the gas station window and sighed in relief at the sight of Steve still asleep in the car. This demon must be alone, it’d be easy to kill him then. Just as the demon reached for a knife in his own pocket, you kicked him in the chest and pulled your angel blade from your jacket. “What were you doing playing dress up?” It was more of a statement than a question, but he answered nonetheless.

“Waiting,” he groaned, “for the right person.” Well, sort of answered it.

You dodged his punch and stabbed him in the stomach, twisting the blade each time he tried to attack you. “Waiting for who?” you yelled and pushed the blade in deeper.

He screamed and bellowed, “Shouldn’t you know? He’s your brother! The angels are hunting him down, aren’t they?”

You hadn’t been informed of an angel they were currently hunting, but then again they didn’t tell you much anyways. “What’s his name?”

The demon laughed at that, the horrible stench of coffee and eggs leaving his mouth and wafting through the air. “They don’t tell you a damn thing, do they? I’m not fucking telling you anything!”

With a scowl on your face, you ripped the blade out of his stomach and ignored the blood splatting onto your shoes and shirt and finally stabbed him straight in the heart before he could react, watching his mouth fall open as his body spark orange multiple times and fell to the ground.

It took you a few minutes to respond to what you had done. Deciding against leaving the bloody body on the floor for the demons to discover, you cleaned up as hastily as possible to ensure there was a big enough gap between you and the black eyed bastards. You threw the body in a dumpster out the back of the gas station, mopped up the train of blood and deleted all of tonight’s footage from the security cameras. Steve didn’t have much money and you sure as hell didn’t, so you stole some from the cash register just in case. You filled a shopping bag with food that’d last Steve a few weeks at most and finally left the store, silently scoffing to yourself at the sight of Steve still asleep in the passenger seat. He sure could sleep.

With a smidge of your grace, you flicked the radio on and kept the volume low enough to not wake Steve. It wasn’t exactly unordinary for you to go hours without talking to anybody and when you became an angel you often went days without saying a word, but you currently felt like you were going to go insane if you didn’t at least listen to something, even though you never really listened to the radio to begin with.

The warm of tangerine quickly washed over you as the sun began to rise, the bright beams hitting you and Steve directly in the face. The sudden brightness caused him to stir once or twice, but your right wing flew out to shield his face before he woke. Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion at your wings actions, but shrugged it off and decided it was best that he was getting as much sleep as possible. A good sleep was one thing you knew hunters weren’t used to getting.

Steve stayed completely still for the next three and a half hours until he finally woke up from a nearby car honking at the car ahead of them. Your wing retracted and settled into place against your back once again, the sun now barely hitting the top of Steve’s hair. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” he muttered, his voice croaky. “Can you smell honey?”

“Probably the food.” You smiled and reached in the backseat for the bag of food. “Care for some jerky?”

“What?” he grumbled. He ran a hand through his messy hair, which only made it even messier, and turned to you with half-opened eyes. “When did you get all of this? How’d you get – is that blood?”

The blue of his eyes sparkled in the sunlight, making him look like some kind of Disney prince. “Um, yeah.” you answered, glancing down at your hands. “Stopped at a gas station, which was run by a demon.”

“So you killed it.” Steve said, understanding. He relaxed into the seat. “Did you get hurt?”

You grinned and teased, “Are you worried about me?”

He ignored you and shoved his hand through the bag of food, pulling out the first thing his hand came in contact with. “Pie?”

“Can never go wrong with some pie, Steve.”

He smiled warmly and placed the dessert back into the bag. “I think I know somebody who’d you get along with great.” Steve searched through the contents and chose something a little more breakfast friendly.

“You could always introduce me one day.”

Steve hummed and nodded his head the slightest as he sunk his teeth into the pre-packaged pikelets. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“Yeah,” you lied, “I’m not really hungry.”

“It doesn’t look like you’ve consumed anything. Everything in here is sealed.”

A dim smiled stretched on your face. Why’d he have to be so observant? “I’ll find something to eat later. That food won’t last as long if I start eating it, trust me.”

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know that he was searching for something for you to eat. The rustling of plastic told you enough. “You need to eat,” he said, opening a container, “at least eat half of it.”

From the corner of your eye you saw a white triangle with specks of green, red and yellow in it. Your eyes shifted to his hand and you screwed your face up at the sight of the unappetising sandwich. Why’d you even grab that to begin with? But you knew he wasn’t going to give up. “Fine.” You grumpily chewed on the sandwich and desperately tried not to gag at the horrific taste of molecules circulating in your mouth. You were sure the molecules weren’t even half as bad as what the sandwich actually tasted like. “Happy?”

Once again, Steve ignored you and questioned, “Where are we?”

“Boise.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised. “I didn’t realise you were taking us to a case.”

“I’m not?”

“So you didn’t bring us here to solve the mysterious murders? The – the ones where the blood was drained out of the victims?”

“Well, no.”

“We should look into it while we’re here.”

A faint sigh left your lips, quiet enough for him to not notice. The demons could be rocking up to Idaho any second, you didn’t have time to go solving cases. Not to mention, you weren’t actually a hunter. You had a no idea how to kill most of these monsters. You're screwed.


End file.
